Eleven Other Bathrooms
by Dr. Breifs Cat
Summary: "It's our five week anniversary," he says, like its the most plainly obvious thing in the world.  It isn't even true.  They agreed to try this experiment in romance on a Saturday and today is Tuesday.  Their five week anniversary was three days ago.


**Eleven Other Bathrooms**

She doesn't have the energy to make the needed preparations to stay there every night, but when it does happen, Pepper loves the morning routine at the Stark mansion. JARVIS is programed to awaken Tony at 5 AM with soft chime. He is a restless sleeper, jerking into full awareness at the slightest disturbance. A much heavier sleeper, Pepper never so much as registers the alarm. At 6:30, the house robots begin their own morning ritual, starting with getting the coffee brewed. Tony is in the shower at 6:45, scrubbing last night's sweat and this morning's workshop grease from his skin. Awake herself by this time, Pepper drinks coffee and admires the view over the ocean from his bedroom windows.

Since abdicating from the CEO position at Stark Industries, Tony's schedule has become less demanding. He meets with his new assistant at 9:00 to discuss future events and/or pressing e-mails. At 10:30 he conducts a conference with R&D. The 11 o'clock hour is devoted to public relations, beginning with the national front with his other new assistant, and moving to international PR with his other-other new assistant by 11:30. He's left the office no later than noon, off to his basement or jet-setting or world-saving or whatever else he might wish to do. The trio (he calls them Team Iron Man) stay behind to file paperwork, handle correspondences and organize tomorrow's meetings. His job has become limited to

1) Designing things that do not explode

2) Making sure Research and Development can turn it into something replicable and marketable and,

3) Being popular the world over.

The Iron Man and SHIELD keep his mind fairly occupied, so he's only marginally more invested in this role than he had been in being CEO.

Since taking on - and, against her own better judgement, _keeping_ - the position of CEO, Pepper's schedule has become nightmarishly irregular. There are days where she is at the office at 6:30 in the morning, days she has so many extra-curriculars she doesn't get in at all and everything in between. She has come to regard closing bell not as quitting time, but a sign that she may finally get something done. It doesn't help that she still isn't convinced Tony won't blow the whole place sky high sooner rather than later. Containing and redirecting his energy had been a challenging, yet oddly rewarding job. Her new job is more challenging and less rewarding. She stressed and irritable and worse, she misses Tony. Nights at the mansion are decadent and mornings are leisurely. She finds herself _needing_ that with an alarming regularity, though more often than not, Pepper doesn't have the time to permit herself the indulgence. This morning, she has no where pressing to be until 9:30 and she means to take advantage of the lull.

At 7:10, she hears the shower turn off. She sips her coffee, watches the ocean and waits. There's a long stretch of time where Pepper doesn't hear any signs of life coming from the bathroom. Tony is not the only one with some place to be, so she needs him to finish up. There are 11 other bathrooms in the mansion, but she has such a strong preference for this one. When her mug is empty, Pepper steps away from the windows. She had wrenched a sheet from the bed to cover her modesty, but she drops it now in favor of slipping into her discarded panties from the night before and a cut wife-beater he has left on the floor.

Slowly easing open the bathroom door, Pepper spots Tony standing at the counter, motionless. He's got a towel knotted around his waist and his hair is still somewhat damp. He evidently finished his shower, went to the mirror over the sink and just began to stare at himself. It's an ugly stare, one that she's only seen a few times. It makes her nervous. This man hid that he was dying from her. The angry way he looks at himself shows her a glimpse of a different side of himself, something else that he's trying to hide. She doesn't know what he's capable of. Tony has never acknowledged any awareness of limitations.

She lets a few more minutes tick by in this uncertain space before asking, "How much of your morning routine is spent glaring at yourself in the mirror?"

Her voice breaks him out of whatever funk he'd been in him. "I'm shaving."

Pepper surveys the untouched razor and shaving cream on the counter, then the generous stubble on his cheeks. "Mm-hm."

Deliberately, Tony begins to lather.

"I need to take a shower, too," she reminds him.

"You should have joined me," he says.

"Not time effective," she chides softly.

"Or," he suggests, "You can pop in right now and I'll join you."

"Definitely not time effective."

He hasn't even picked up his razor yet. After sauntering to the counter herself, Pepper begins to brush her teeth. She has very few personal possessions in Tony's home. A toothbrush is one, a variety of clean, pressed suits hanging in dry-clean bags in his closet are some more. The rest are minor, day-to-day necessities. Her toothbrush is electronic. It runs for two minutes. When the brush shuts down, Tony has made exactly one swipe at his face with the razor. She spits, rinses. He flicks shaving cream and hair off the blade, splattering it against the sink.

Pepper slips the razor from his hand. "Wear the suit that I hung on your closet door and a blue tie today. I expect to see you dressed when I get out of the shower. Happy is going to be here to pick you up at 8. That gives you half an hour."

He doesn't like being prodded or hurried along, so he says, "I'll drive myself. You go with him."

Shaking her head, Pepper reminds him, "My car is here and I can't come back after work tonight."

"You should."

"I'm leaving for International Green Energy Coalition conference in London tomorrow. I haven't even packed yet."

"In my experience," Tony says loftily, "that is what assistants are for."

She frowns at him and holds up the razor. "I will cut you." With nimble fingers, she tips his chin to a better angle and begins to shave him. "Natalie is more of a bodyguard than an assistant. I wouldn't ask her to pack for me."

"London," he repeats.

"Please stop talking. I don't want to slip. It's only four days."

When she stops to rinse the excess off the razor, Tony asks, "What does Fury think of you whisking his agents away to merry old England?"

"I didn't ask him," she says briskly, returning to the task at hand. It wasn't that she felt unsafe, exactly, just more secure with Natalie trailing behind her. It wounded Tony's pride a bit, she knew, and he was right to think that Iron Man was more powerful than the lithe wrestler. But Natalie didn't depend on machines or batteries. She didn't need someone to hand her equipment before she was effective or to be repaired and reassembled between every fight. Pepper was not terribly concerned about how Natalie's other boss felt about her continuing employment at Stark Industries. Fury had stationed her there and he could just as easily recall her if he wished. Pepper wasn't naive enough to assume that Natalie did not have an ulterior motive of some sort, but as long as she was fulfilling what she was asked of, it was a mutually beneficial relationship.

"So." Tony can only allow silence for so long, even when Pepper is short with him and he's being pampered. "What do you want to do for our anniversary?"

She frowns. "It's not our anniversary."

Tony shrugs. "Sure it is."

"We've been together for five weeks," Pepper points out.

"It's our five-week anniversary," he says, like its the most plainly obvious thing in the world. It isn't even true - they agreed to try this experiment in romance on a Saturday and today is Tuesday. Their five-week anniversary was three days ago.

But it is such familiar territory. She starts shaving his other cheek. "The word anniversary comes from the Latin. 'Returning yearly.'"

"Why do you hate celebrating?" He scoffs. "This relationship is never going to work if you can't celebrate."

"Hush," Pepper says and it is a little harsh, but she doesn't want to cut him accidently. Conversationally, she continues, "I like celebrations. Maybe not your style of celebration-get so drunk you don't even know why you're at a party." Over his protest of _being at a party to get drunk_, Pepper smartly continues, "What I don't like is you trying to weasel your way out of work by plying me with romance. Shh. I'll slip if you talk."

"Where do you want to go?" He prods. He hates being prodded, but Tony loves to push others.

"To work. I have this company that I run. You may have heard of it." Pepper puts down the razor and begins inspecting her handiwork. His cheeks are smooth, the lines of his goatee crisp and even. Tony will need to trim his beard soon, but not today. "People tell me your name is on the side of the buildings."

"And also on the letter heads," he reminds her jauntily, applying aftershave once she has released him.

"And also on the letter heads," Pepper agrees.

"You'll go to London with Natasha, but you won't run away with me," he complains abruptly. He grins. It is predatory: the first time she's seen him smile this morning. "You have devious plans to seduce your personal assistant, I can tell. You've got a very expensive sexual harassment lawsuit on your hands."

Shaking her head, Pepper says, "I don't even know where to begin."

"I don't mind sharing," Tony starts, but immediately silences the protests she never made with a hand gesture. "Actually, forget that, I do. Call me selfish, but you're mine. We can spin this. She came onto you. You sue her for harassment and then we'll run away to Europe and live off the settlement." Pepper purses her lips. These particular experiences of women in the workforce are not funny, but it's just like a man to think it is the stuff of jokes. "We'll go just in time for Carnival," he decides.

"Wear masks and no one will ever find us?" she asks. He bumps closer into her space, jostling against her and nodding. "Until," Pepper says, planting her palms on his chest, bracketing the arc reactor, "You announce to the world that you are the man behind the paper mache and glitter mask."

"Doesn't have the same powerful imagery as iron," he grouses.

"They can't all be winners," Pepper says with a sigh and a smile. She pats his cheek and spares an over the shoulder glance at digital clock display in the mirror. "Speaking of winners, Happy is already here and you are wearing a towel. Go. Go get dressed." She all but shoves him out of the bathroom and into his closet before running back to take a fast shower.

When she emerges, Tony is thankfully gone, as is the suit that she'd chosen for him. In a terry-cloth robe and her hair wrapped in a towel, Pepper collapses onto the bed.

There are eleven other bathrooms in this Californian castle of Tony's, but Pepper likes to use the one attached to the master bedroom. That bathroom is more _his_, and that makes it more welcoming. It is the one with his hair in the drain and his stubble in the sink. Most of the house is sterile in its needless opulence, with rooms Tony doesn't even spare a glance at, decorated fashionably by a stranger.

She has fifteen minutes in which to dress, do her hair and apply make-up if she is going to get to the office on time. Only among the rumpled sheets is she free to think about things like running away and that she keeps her best suits in his closet. Someday soon, she is going to have to set aside a time in both of their schedules to give them time to talk about what is happening between them. If he behaves himself, she may even let him pick out a reasonable milestone to celebrate, because she doesn't think returning yearly will be often enough to keep him happy. Then there is always remodeling another bathroom to consider, and dealing with the way he looks at himself in the mirror.

She's late, of course.

* * *

Disclaimers: All standard apply, only not my standard because this is movie-verse, what?

Author Notes: For a challenge comm.


End file.
